


Drunk on Bliss

by PandaFalls



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaFalls/pseuds/PandaFalls
Summary: When Typhus and Barnaby switch, things usually get pretty sensual pretty quick.





	

It was the afternoon. The sun was still in the sky, but fixing to set in only an hour or so. For many people staying in the vacation villas by the beach, the sun was far too slow to set and so they had taken bedtime into their own hands. For when you are an amorous couple on vacation, bedtime is the best time of the day.  


The sun filtered into Typhus and Barnaby's room through the thin curtain hanging over the window by their bed as the frame creaked over and over. Typhus's face was pinched in pleasure, and his hand gripping Barnaby's shoulder as a small sounds escaped his throat with each steady thrust of the Brit's hips into his body. Barnaby had been given the opportunity to top, and he certainly wouldn't be one to disappoint. He was giving to to Typhus nice and steady, moaning softly as he watched his husband's pleasured expressions. "Ughh~ S'that good babe? Yew like this pace?"  


\- Typhus was speechless, his toes curled tight as a groan rumbled up from his chest. Barnaby was so good at finding that one spot that drove Typhus nuts nowadays. The first couple times they'd done this, it took Barnaby some time to find the right angle. But now the Brit had leaned right into it without any searching, like finding a familiar light switch in the dark. Typhus gave a small nod to Barnaby's words, his string of moans speaking for him instead. He couldn't really think clearly enough to say much about anything, but he loved it. He loved being stuck in this eternity of sensation, just letting himself be the happy prisoner of Barnaby's experienced touch.

\- The first few times they did this, Typhus seemed to come undone after only a few thrusts against his sweet spot. Nowadays, more experienced in fucking his rarely subby husband, Barnaby knew how to keep Typhus in suspended bliss. The Brit liked to draw things out for himself too, so finding that perfect pace and the right angle was all he needed. The bed creaked as he rolled his his hips, digging away at Typhus's body and pressing him into the mattress with each deep roll of his hips, feeling the head of his shaft rub across that spot again and again. Too fast and Typhus would come between their bodies. Too slow and it made the man uncomfortable. Too softly, it wasn't enough for either of them. So Barnaby perfected his missionary style pace for Typhus, just for his wonderful husband, and Barnaby loved another session of total control over his dominant lover. "God babe, yer so fuckin' gorgeous like this," he murmured gruffly, stroking a hand over Typhus's hair and leaning down to kiss him, his abdomen muscles pleasantly sore from the core workout this gave him.

\- Typhus couldn't even remember if this was for some sort of occasion at the moment. Christmas? Barnaby's birthday? Maybe Typhus had just been in the mood? He couldn't remember. He could only feel, his body full of a flowing buildup of pleasure that he felt he could ride forever. How did Barnaby do this? How did he stick Typhus in this limbo, hanging between buildup and orgasm like a puppet moving under Barnaby's will alone?

Barnaby's gruff voice filtered in through the haze and Typhus felt lips against his. His face tilted into the touch, the Italian drinking in the taste and eagerly weaving his fingers into Barnaby's hair so that he could groan his pleasure up into the man's mouth. It was all he could do at the moment. Some nights he was capable of being very verbal for Barnaby, but not tonight, not even in Italian. He could only speak in moans, and how absolutely expressive those moans were!

Eventually Typhus's body reached a breaking point, for not even the Italian's stamina lasted forever. He sucked in a gasp as he felt the pleasure forcefully draw his body taught like a bow, his toes curling and his back arching as the man panted and whimpered in a wordless plea to be finally given release. His body had finally had enough, but only Barnaby could pull the trigger.

\- Doing this to Typhus was the best kind of torture, for himself included. Kissing Typhus, practically tasting how wanton he was, drinking up his moans, it drove Barnaby crazy. He got drunk on it. He tugged gently at Typhus's lower lip between his teeth, huffing excitedly as that familiar whimper worked his way out of the Italian.

He kept the pace steady, knowing anything more would be too much and he'd ruin the intensity he worked on creating with his pace. He slipped a hand between them, taking Typhus's slick and leaking shaft into his hand and giving it a few slow pumps, focusing on the head. He could feel the release right under the surface, so he let that tension snap. Barnaby groaned deep from his chest, letting his own heavy orgasm hit him, pumping his husband full of seed as he worked the head of Typhus's shaft in his hand, waiting to feel that burst of wetness as his eyes remained open to watch the main event.

\- Typhus gave a groan of relief when he felt Barnaby's hand reach between them, eagerly moaning and pulling at his pillow as he waited for the man to let him have his orgasm. He felt his husband's seed squirt into him at the same time that his own shaft jumped, his body bursting into a writhing mass of all the sexual energy that Barnaby had been building up for so long. His head pressed back into the pillow as his thighs quaked with the intensity of the orgasm, the man crying out and sending moans up to the ceiling as he covered himself in ropes of cum all the way up to his own collar bone. He let Barnaby stroke him to full completion before his body went limp and he collapsed into a panting mess under Barnaby. His cheeks were pleasantly flushed as he laid there, eyes still closed as his head swam.

\- "Nngh, fuck--" Barnaby cursed under his breath, gasping as Typhus's body writhed underneath his and his muscles tensed around his shaft, pulling a few final throbs from his own shaft as his orgasm slowed to completion. He looked down between them, groaning at the mess that Typhus made as he eased his hand off. He laughed a little breathlessly, feeling accomplished that he could give his husband so much pleasure when he submitted. Barnaby hummed warmly, tucking his face into the man's neck and kissing at his racing pulse, biting gently at his skin, whispering words of love and adoration.

Barnaby slowed his hips, working himself down from the high and easing out slowly, slumping against Typhus's side. He kept an arm curled around his head, still kissing his neck and jaw and under his ear. "Goddamn, yer so fucking beautiful like this," he whispered, whole body pulsing from the euphoric aftereffects. Typhus's body was flushed and glowing from the sexual high. His skin felt so warm against Barnaby's lips. "I love yew babe," he said into his ear, lips brushing the shell of it as he stroked his forehead, knowing the intensity of their sessions could sometimes make Typhus a bit lightheaded.

\- Perhaps the nicest part of all of this was how well taken care of Typhus felt with Barnaby around. He was light headed and delirious with bliss and completely vulnerable, but it was okay because Barnaby was there, kissing his racing pulse and gently biting at his neck and generally giving little reminders that he was still right there with Typhus. Typhus let Barnaby's words wash over him, his eyes instinctively cracking open when he heard the three most important words that must always be returned. "Ti amo too," he murmured, mixing up Italian and English and speaking with a tired slur, but meaning every syllable nevertheless as he turned his face towards Barnaby to give him a nuzzle. Only Barnaby would ever get to see Typhus like this. Only Barnaby would ever have this much of the Italian's trust.

\- Barnaby stroked the side of Typhus's face lovingly, smiling at his delirious husband. He kissed him softly on the lips a few times, humming at the taste. Tasted like wine. Even if Barnaby had nearly perfected dominating Typhus, a few glasses of red never hurt to just relax the brute.

"I'm gonna clean us up, yew rest," he said quietly, kissing him again before easing himself out of bed. Unlike bottoming, he always felt a little invigorated after dominating Typhus, had a bit more energy and a pep in his step. He gathered the wash clothe and came back to bed, cleaning Typhus and himself up, moving him onto the other side of the bed and throwing another sheet down where Typhus had been laying. Lube was never fun to roll around in, and there was a small puddle of it where Typhus's rear had been.

With everything straightened out and cleaned, Barnaby returned to Typhus's side, snuggling close against him, pulling the covers over them now that the high speed fan overhead had cooled their sweaty bodies down. He nipped at the man's earlobe, murmuring more words of love to him, praising him for how gorgeous he was, what a fantastic bottom he was. He thanked him as usual for letting him do that. He always felt closer to Typhus when given the chance. Cupping his cheek, he turned the man's face to his and kissed him one final time, slow and sweet, before telling him to sleep, tucking his face into Typhus's neck.

\- Typhus laid there, happily drunk on bliss as he groggily watched Barnaby clean everything up through half open eyes. When Barnaby snuggled back against him, Typhus got to hear a lot of positive love whispered into his ear. It filled him up and made him smile, the words helping the submissive experience build him up rather than break down his pride. The one final kiss alighted on Typhus's lips and the Italian gave a soft happy murmur, snuggling against Barnaby and obeying the last gentle instruction: Go to sleep.

 


End file.
